


How About an Egg Tart?

by iprocrastinateterribly



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, One Shot, Slice of Life, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-29
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-07-04 06:33:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15835725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iprocrastinateterribly/pseuds/iprocrastinateterribly
Summary: Nothing suits misery better than an uncomfortable and cold fire escape, at least that's what Seungkwan figures as he mopes after having the absolute worst day. However, the day doesn't end nearly as bad as it started, thanks to what Seungkwan can only assume was an a formal apology from God.(One shot I did instead of writing TLQTSTW because I need writing practice and, well, procrastination)





	How About an Egg Tart?

A small cloud of fog floated slowly away from Seungkwan as he sighed into the cold night. He was sitting on the fire escape of his apartment building, his feet dangling off the edge and his arms resting on the lower rail. He was shivering a little, since he had been outside for over an hour at this point. It had started with wanting to sob in peace (since his roommates Chan and Jun were _extremely_ nosey), and after he had finished his cry he decided to stay and mope some more because nothing suits misery better than an uncomfortable and cold fire escape.

“I wish I had brought a blanket,” he mumbled to himself, sniffling a little. “…or cup of tea. Damn, a cookie would be so nice too…” He had a small habit of talking to himself sometimes, but he always talked to himself when he was feeling lonely. “A pastry would be good. A croissant, or a custard Danish, or-”

“What about, like, an egg tart?”

“HOLY SHIT.” Seungkwan nearly shat himself. He whipped around to see a wide eyed, guilty looking boy who looked around his own age. The boy put his hand behind his head and into his soft, wavy russet hair.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he laughed softly. _Oh no_ , Seungkwan thought and definitely did not say aloud, _he’s gorgeous_. He would’ve spiralled into a gay panic, if the events of today didn’t suddenly stab his tender heart again, making him not currently too appreciative of the boys pretty hazel eyes.

“Wh-what the hell do you think you’re **doing**?” Seungkwan stammered whilst pulling himself up clumsily, “I could’ve fallen, or… or, like, died from a heart attack!” He had his hands on his hips, mostly to stop them from betraying how much adrenaline was coursing through his thoroughly shook self, “You can’t just sneak up on people! Why are you out here? Do you smoke?”

The boy had no expression on his face for a second, he blinked twice before saying in a confused tone “I- Uh, no I don’t smoke.” Seungkwan crossed his arms, not quite sure what to do now.

“That’s good. Yeah, you know smoking’s just so bad and all… Why are you even out here then?”

“I mean, I live in the apartment here, so…” He pointed to the window behind him. Now it was Seungkwan’s turn to stare and blink. His apartment building wasn’t that big, with five apartments to a floor (two on each side and a singular one at the end opposite to the elevators and stairs). Seungkwan had walked a little away from his apartment’s window as to make sure he wouldn’t be caught wailing by his roommates, so he’d sat… right in front of this pretty boy’s window, _oh god_.

“I, uh, heard you talking to yourself and, um, thought you’d like some company.” He smiled sheepishly at Seungkwan. It was like his smiled flicked on a light that started to shine behind the boy’s head, softly illuminating him and his angelic features. Seungkwan thought he heard a chorus of angels softly ah-ing, rightfully marvelling at the prettiest boy he had, perhaps, ever in his 20 years laid eyes on. Seungkwan’s cheeks felt hot and he found it hard to keep eye contact with the boy.

“Oh, that makes sense. Um, I’ll just, um...” He awkwardly held his hand out. “I’m Seungkwan.”

The other boy looked at it, bemusedly, but took hold of it none the less. He shook it lightly and warmly introduced himself “I’m Hansol.”

Whilst Seungkwan’s hands were thin and almost dainty, Hansol’s were thicker and stronger. His touch was warm on Seungkwan’s freezing hand, and he looked with shock at Seungkwan. “You’re freezing! Wait here.” He quickly jumped through the window into his apartment, coming back out with two plush blankets. He placed one down and unfurled the other one, going behind Seungkwan and wrapping it around the shorter boy’s shoulders. _Oh fuck_ , Seungkwan’s mind was screaming. Hansol came back around Seungkwan and threw the other blanket around his own shoulders. He turned back to Seungkwan and grinned slyly “I’m sorry, I don’t have any pastries in the apartment right now.”

Seungkwan buried his face in his hands. _How much can Hansol hear from his apartment? Could he hear him crying earlier?_ Hansol chuckled lightly, sitting in the window frame. “You don’t have to be embarrassed, I talk to myself too.”

“About eating a bunch of baked goods?” Seungkwan asked miserably between his fingers.

“Well,” Hansol shook his head a little to move his only-just-too-long fringe out of his eyes, “not usually, but I like to talk while I do things. Helps me stay focused.” Seungkwan dropped his hands from his face, moving back a bit so he could lean against the rail. He grabbed the edges of the blanket and pulled them so he could wrap himself up all cosy. “Concentrate on what?” _being stupidly handsome? Being so damn nice and soft and-_ Seungkwan mentally shook himself, _god calm your gay for a second Seungkwan._

Hansol’s eyes started to sparkle. “I’m a rapper! I write my own lyrics and I’m trying to learn to compose, which is harder than I thought it’d be, but I have a friend who’s **so** good at composing. He’s written songs for, like, real singers and stuff and he’s helping me by showing my how to properly use sound engineering programs and he lets me use his studio and…” He trailed off suddenly, his brightness diminishing a little. “Ah, but you probably don’t wanna hear about all of this, it’s kinda boring I guess, ha.”

“What, no!” Seungkwan quickly straightened up. “It’s not boring, why would you think that?”

“Um, most people tell me that it’s unrealistic for me to be a rapper and that I talk too much about it and-”

“Well those people are dumb as shit.” Seungkwan quickly cut him off, his hands on his hips again. “If you’re passionate about it and work hard of course you will succeed. Are you working hard?”

Hansol kicked the ground lightly, his voice soft. “I work but I really try to use every second of my free time to write or brainstorm or create-”

“Then **fuck** those other people, you’ll make it, I know it.” Hansol looked at Seungkwan, his face hiding none of his emotions. He looked so incredibly thankful, and almost teary. He looked down again for a second, looking like he was quickly debating with himself, and then looked up. “Why were you crying?”

 _Ah, so he had heard._ Seungkwan sighed, turning away from Hansol. The building next to his apartment was quite a low one, so he could see some of the bustling street from here. People rushing to get places, couples strolling hand in hand probably arguing light-heartedly where to eat or what to do next. “I was crying because life was very unfair to me today, in my opinion.” He heard footfalls hitting metal and next thing Hansol was next to him, his arms on the railing, the street lights turning his light hair almost golden at the edges.

“What did it do?”

Seungkwan placed his elbows on the railing and propped his chin in his hands. He spoke with a pouty tone. “I spilt my whole ass cup of tea on myself this morning, ruining my amazing outfit I had picked. I missed my bus, and god are taxis expensive, not to mention the driver kept making comments about Muslims and women that I did not appreciate but I didn’t want to get thrown out the taxi so I kept quite.”

“I don’t think he’d throw you out the taxi.”

“I didn’t want to take the chance. And then when I got to college I found out that I failed my music theory exam by one mark, and it’s all because I missed the classes when I got laryngitis. After that all I wanted to do was eat a goddamn ramen cup,” Seungkwan was scowling now, his eyebrows knit tightly together, “but I got called into a class to show some first years proper vocal warm up techniques and I couldn’t say no because I really like that teacher and I don’t want them to hate me-”

“Again, I don’t think they would’ve hated you.”

Seungkwan looked at Hansol, his eyebrows round and high in a ‘let me finish my story???’ look. Hansol put his hands up in a surrender, failing to keep a straight face. “So, I missed lunch and then when I got home now I burnt my dinner and my roommates were no help and when I tried to call my mom to tell her about my awful day she told me she was busy hanging out with my sisters and that she’d call tomorrow.”

“So you came out to have a cry?”

“What was I supposed to do?”

“Talk to a friend?”

Seungkwan looked down at the alley under them, his mouth in a very tight pout as he squished his own cheeks together. “I dunhav ehny fends.”

“What?”

With a loud sigh Seungkwan’s head snapped towards Hansol. “I don’t have any friends, Hansol.”

Hansol looked genuinely confused. “What do you mean?”

“All the kids in my class are okay to chat to but none of them care about me, they only want to tell me about their problems and get relationship advice from me and ask if this shirt matches their hair tie. Am I your therapist? Do you pay me? Like I’m gay, but do I look like I’m hosting Queer Eye?” Seungkwan’s eyes flew wide. _Oh shit, what if this kid’s homophobic? What if he suddenly hates me?_

Hansol, though, wasn’t even looking at Seungkwan and did not notice the boy’s panicked state. He stared thoughtfully at a group of tipsy girls laughing down the road. “I’ve seen you leave the building a few times and to be honest I get them asking you for advice your outfits really do look so good. I’m more of a loose fitting clothes and bright beanies kind of-” He seemed to finally notice Seungkwan was looking both afraid and confused. “You okay?”

“You… you don’t seem shocked that I’m gay?” Hansol laughed incredibly loudly, making Seungkwan blush and cross his arms.

“Seungkwan, I can tell you I’m not known to be very good at noticing things, but it’s really not hard to figure out you’re gay.”

Seungkwan opened and closed his mouth a few times, looking like a cute goldfish. “You wore a neck scarf the other day. It was a nice colour though, light pink-.”

“The colour was rose quartz.” Seungkwan was quick to correct him. Hansol just laughed again. Seungkwan relaxed, laughing a long a little. They were silent for a bit, still watching all the figures on the street, marching along with their own sorrows and joys. “I’ll be your friend.”  
Seungkwan turned to Hansol, his mouth slightly open and his eyes blinking. Hansol looked adorably shy again. “You said you don’t have friends, which is wild to me. You’re funny and easy to talk to, and you said you sing in college?”

Seungkwan suddenly puffed his chest out. “I’m majoring in vocal perormance. I’m top of my class.”

Hansol beamed at him. “We should make music together! I can rap and you can sing!”  
Seungkwan liked that idea. He had the feeling he’d have fun with Hansol, even if they didn’t do anything at all. “Ah, actually how old are you?” Seungkwan quickly inquired, just curious.

“I was born in 98.”

“Oh!” Seungkwan grabbed the other boy’s hand excitedly. “Me too! We’re the same age!”  
Hansol looked down at Seungkwan’s hand wrapped around his own, making Seungkwan immediately snatch it away. “Um, yeah. I’d really like to make some music with you.” He murmured, not looking at Hansol.

“Do you wanna hear what I’ve been working on? I can make you a cup of tea?” Hansol asked in a bashful tone, looking at Seungkwan with those lovely, lovely innocent eyes. Seungkwan nodded his head enthusiastically. Hansol reached down and grabbed Seungkwan’s hand firmly, pulling him through the window into his apartment.

Seungkwan kind of had a feeling Hansol would be very important in his life from here on, but he didn’t think he’d be his friend for very long per se. Hansol started excitedly telling him about his inspiration for the piece he was working on, about how he struggled so hard to find a hook he was happy with and how he thought someone singing in the chorus would make it infinitely better. He stopped talking and glanced to Seungkwan, his expression vulnerable.

Seungkwan beamed at him, his bad day definitely over. “Whatever you want me to do, I can do it. Let’s make a hit,” his voice was filled with confidence, and the desire to make Hansol smile again. Hansol did smile, and it was radiant. His eyes turned to happy crescents as he held Seungkwan’s hand tighter and pulled him with ever more enthusiasm to his room, almost sprinting. _Yeah_ , Seungkwan thought to himself, _my momma’s gonna like you_.


End file.
